Heavy Heart
by famousindafuture
Summary: OTHELLO- This is a Bianca/Cassio story because I don't believe there are enough of those.


Every night it was the same. Cassio would turn and toss- his mind being filled with vivid images of all of them, standing there murdering each other. Someone would yell his name, a flash of black, someone was false, a flash of red, someone was true. As he stood there looking at all of his friends murdered on the ground, their clothes slashed to pieces and the metallic scent of blood tainting the air he would lean over to throw up. But as he knelt over their bodies, and went to drop his head in his hands, he would see the knife that killed them all trembling in his own palm. As he awoke, a layer of sweat dripping over his face, and gasping for breathe- he would reach for her. Only to remember that she was gone as well. He could still smell her vanilla perfume on his sheets, and feel the imprint of where her body used to sleep every night. It was strange. One would think, being a whore, that she would spend her nights with suitors- but she was more than a whore. She was in fact beguiled by many. Her beauty made it so that, despite her profession, she could mingle with any class she wanted. She was one the richest ladies in Cyprus, because every man was clamoring to sleep with her, or even spend just a moment in her presence, and she had the ability to choose only those whom she could get a just reward from. She herself got to choose when and where she wanted her clients, and ran her life as she pleased. She would do as she willed during the day- yet at night, she always chose him. He would fall asleep to her pressing her body as physically close to his as possible, chattering on about some drama that unfolded earlier that day. And damned as he was, he missed that incessant chattering now. The night was cold, as was his heart.

He missed more than that. He missed waking up to her, covered in nothing but his bed cloth. Her blonde hair spread across his pillows, the cloth barely covering her creamy and ample breasts that would rise and fall with every breath. He missed the few freckles on her nose, and the way her dark eyelashes would flutter open. Her eyes, he missed them the most. The way they seemed midnight blue when they were welling with tears, or the way they could shimmer with mischief. He missed her laugh- loud, and dainty at the same time. And most of all- when all he wanted to do was talk to someone- he missed the way they talked. With most girls they were so worried about being proper, or seeming unattainable but Bianca spoke her mind. She wasn't afraid to chastise, hit, tease, berate, mock, flatter, or flirt. The life she carried made all other women seem dull by comparison. How ironic that he spent so long trying to deny, downplay, and even make a mockery of the love he shared for her and it was that denial that helped weave the web that entangled them all. He was so proud- so stupid that he unknowingly led his friend to murder. He needed to talk to her- hear her. But the bauble wasn't anywhere to be found. Last time he had seen her, Iago had been blaming her for the street brawl. He was sure, after a night or so she would come running to him but his house and his bed remained empty, He had looked for her- only to hear she wasn't taking clients. For weeks now he waited awake until the late hours certain that she would storm through his door in a hustle of drama and energy. But she hadn't. And this night- while it could have been like the others before it- Cassio found the determination to change it. And without thought to anything besides shoes he stormed off to find her. When he arrived at her residence, the place which one of her wealthy clients had put her up, he paced for hours. His mind was as rampant as his feet below him. Finally when the sun was rising, and the sky was splotched with purple and red he rang on the door- and an older woman he knew to be her mother answered the door.

"What the devil?"

"Is Bianca here?"

"This is most inappropriate, my daughter is not for thee. Please fast away, or else I should let the justice on you."

"You forget that I am now the governor of Cyprus m'am." He said pleadingly.

"That does not mean that I am to allow you into my abode at any hour of the day, so you can force my daughter to make wanton with you. She is a woman of honor." Her mother leered at him.

"Please let me talk to her- I pledge to be civil, an utter gentleman." Her mother scoffed, and without thinking he grabbed her hand. "Please?" He begged. When it was obvious the woman was not going to budge he grabbed her by the shoulders. "I have come to ask for her hand in marriage." He blurted out. That was not what he originally intended to do, but now that the words had passed his lips he found he didn't deny them. He had everything taken away from him, and he would do anything to keep her. At this her mothers face flashed with shock. He expected her to smile and jump up and down at this prospect for her daughter, but she only gave him a pitying look.

"She is sick sir. I do not think that is possible." She said very gently. When Cassio heard this news he felt something he had never felt before. He suddenly understood why Othello would kill himself so speedily after loosing his wife. He understood the web that entangled them all. Love. Did he love Bianca? Yes. He had known that for some time now. Somewhere between her shyly undressing in front of him the first time, and berating him in public he had fallen for the girl. Her faith in him, her devotion to him, her temper, her passion for the people around her, her mood swings, her energy, and everything else that belonged to her. If she was sick, then he had no reason to live. If she was to die, what would he do then? He had already lost three true friends, a false friend, and an acquaintance. His family had died some years ago, and the only person he had left was her. Without thought, he ran past her mother and up the stairs to where he assumed he would find her. When he stormed into her room, she was sitting at the window, a blanket over her shoulders. Her blonde hair in ringlets stood out in the overwhelming grey hue of the room. She turned around and her blue eyes caught his. Her eyes seemed empty, the first time he could remember them as such.

"What are you doing here Michael?" She asked her voice devoid of any emotion.

"I need you." He said, running his hands nervously through his hair. Had it been any other day she would have teased him about it but her face remained emotionless.

"No you don't." She said determinately and turned away. If this has been a different time he could have just wrapped his arms around her, and she would have succumbed. But he had never seen her like this. Her heart wasn't on her sleeve, and her emotions weren't echoing off of the walls. The room stayed silent until she asked "Why are you here Cassio?"

"I'm ready to create that child?" He asked jokingly. It was their inside joke. As a courtesan she had her choice of suitors and it was well known that they had to follow her own rules. One of Bianca's rules for her suitors was that they were not allowed to spread themselves inside her. She couldn't risk getting pregnant, and she made no exceptions. Well except of course Cassio. She had long stopped charging Cassio for anything, except to taunt him with it, and she also let him do as he pleased with her. Her one stipulation being- if she got pregnant he was to fast marry her. But the joke went unrecognized. "I am here to ask for your hand in marriage."

He heard something like a mixture between a sob and choking, but he couldn't tell because her back was to him. As he inched forward she turned, her face once again impassive.

"Stop. You can not marry me."

"Why not?"

"I am a whore Cassio."

"What you are you were a month ago as well, and it was what you wanted then." He begged. But as he looked at her, her face stayed as impassive as it had been before. Her eyes seeing straight though him.

"It's different now. A lieutenant marrying a whore is much different than the general of Cyprus marrying a whore." She said tensely.

"How is it different?" He demanded inching towards her grabbing her shoulders to force her to see him.

"You need to earn those mens respect. And you can not do that with a strumpet your arm. They will treat you as if you are beneath them, you will not have the power or command needed, and you can not spend the rest of your life trying to stop people from talking."

"People talk. I don't care. It's you that I reach for in the middle of the night. Men more powerful than me have asked for your hand in marriage."

"Yes!" She exclaimed, her cheeks tinting pink in the most beautiful way. Her eyes flashing with desperation, and a few stray tears falling down. "When they didn't understand the cause and effect. You marry a whore- you" Her voice broke, but she collected herself to continue "You would be on my level. I couldn't do that to you Cassio. You deserve a wife who will help you keep the place that you earned. I'm proud of you that you made it here. But please forget me." At this the blonde brushed the tears off of her cheeks. She smiled a watery, shaky smile, and turned back to the window. As Cassio tried to find the strength to walk away he knew what he had to do. He creeped up behind her and spun her around.

"Never. I demand that you marry me you devil woman. I can handle whatever slander comes their way, as long as I have you by my side. There is no man happy by your self deprecating stunt. I will have you no matter what extremities I have to go to."

She tried to protest, but he grabbed her and held her closer. Right when she was about to try to thwart his plan by separating herself, he pressed his lips firmly to hers shutting her up. She froze, and, just like he always did when he kissed her, he felt intoxicated. But he would not stop kissing her until she agreed- until she consented. She tried to break away, but he kissed her harder until soon she was melting under his touch. His tongue ran itself over her bottom lip and she trembled. Her tongue darted out to meet his, and soon their tongues were in a battle. He kept kissing her as if she was the air he was breathing, afraid to let go, afraid to loose her. When he heard her whimper, he pulled her even closer to him. Both of their bodies were shaking with love, and fear- two things they had never acknowledged in their relationship. But both fed upon each other, and they were afraid to let go or stop touching else their hearts would explode. When they heard a squeak in the entryway, they both separated their lips from each other, and tried to catch their breaths. Cassio leaned his forehead on hers, his eyes filled with love. And when Bianca gave him a tentative smile he felt like he was going to explode like a firework from the emotions she was igniting. Then they heard a coughing next to them and they looked at Bianca's mother in the doorway staring in shock.

"I have asked her to marry me, and she has agreed." He declared but the room remained silent. When he looked at her, searching her for the answer she merely raised an eyebrow at him. Her mother then clapped her hands together as if she had finished a banal chore.

"Well then, we shall see you tomorrow. It is most maim and imperfect if you display the affection you've received until now, before then. So we shall see you tomorrow my Lord." She spat to him. And gave them both a withering look. "Bianca, see your future husband to the door, and have him leave STOUTLY."

Bianca nodded, and then walked down the stairs with Cassio, silence between them. He was waiting for a sign, for her to say something, do something, but she seemed to be lost inside her own head. Then he remembered something.

"I heard you are not well? Is it a serious ailment?" She shook her head, and a blush spread upon her cheeks. "Would I be right in guessing that it was a sickness of the heart?" He teased.

"You don't have to do this." She responded quietly, her eyes set upon the floor.

"Yes I do, if not for your sake, then for my own." Her eyes traveled up to his and she found only honesty in his expression. "I need you more than you know. I need you by my side. Please don't deny me this." Eventually she nodded her consent. He was about to kiss her again when her mother yelled something to remind them of their place. After he was down the street from their house, Cassio found himself smiling. Something he hadn't done in months. And when he imagined himself spending days and nights with the bauble, he knew he made the right decision. Heaven have mercy on his soul.

She was right. The road to marriage wasn't an easy one. They married quietly, because neither wanted to deal with the protests and drama that was sure to be dealt with beforehand. When Cassio introduced her to some of his officers they stared in shock at him. But Bianca found ways to smooth things over. If not by her personable attitude and beauty, then by her collection of secrets she had acquired from her own experiences, and the experiences of friends in her position. At parties some of the women would treat her like they were above her- or alienate her. Most of the time, she was so enraptured by Cassio and Cassios suddenly public affection for her that it didn't touch her. And the times when it did- Cassio would spend the night whispering compliments, and worshipping her body and spirit. He had learned enough from the destruction of Othello to trust his wife. Many men tried to pit the lovers against each other, or worse come onto his wife. But Cassio knew she was loyal. She had been loyal even when she was a product to be had. He owned her heart, and she let him know many times that only he could claim her body. He knew where to touch her, and how to touch her as others never would. Men rarely tried things for fear of Cassios wrath, or even Bianca herself. There was one night, when men were talking, and calling Cassio's power into question- and Bianca had marched up to them and started telling them off. It started off as logical reasons as to why he was the best in his charge, and then, to the embarrassment of Cassio, became a lecture about how he was a real man. When she started railing on about how only he could sexually please a woman, and the size of his jewels, he thought it best to remove her from the situation and deal with her wrath himself. But surprisingly her confidence in him was what helped him succeed the most. When he started to feel discouraged she knew how to bring him back to the right spirits. Whether it was running her hands through his hair telling him what he needed to hear, or taking him against a wall- she knew how to handle him as much as he did her. And while his reputation was called into question many times- there was an unspoken respect. Many idolized him because he had the fair Bianca. It was known she could have had many others, yet something about his command, power, and sexual prowess kept her faithful to him. When they traveled with him, and heard her screaming out his name at night they couldn't be jealous of the man that knew how to keep a sinner faithful. And every night he couldn't help but murmur with happiness that she was there. He never had to be far from her, and he knew she would never let him be. He knew that he was a blessed man.


End file.
